The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance) by Elizabeth Otto

afterward.
    Thirteen when his father had died, Garrett had clung to Brad for strength and advice and support. Now it was time to repay the favor, and he was happy to do so. Seeing Brad in the hospital, once again on the brink of something life-threatening, and the devastated worry on his family’s faces only reinforced Garrett’s decision to stay single. He didn’t want anyone sitting at his bedside in such agony. And although it was selfish, he didn’t want to feel that way about someone else. The fewer people he had to worry about, the more he could protect himself.
    “Mr. Mateo?” The petite brunette receptionist came back to her desk, a warm smile on her face. “Ms. Frasier will see you now.” She gestured with a hand to the hallway.
    Garrett covered a grimace by clearing his throat, then stood and smoothed the front of his jeans. Not that it mattered how he looked. He could have walked in wearing an Armani suit, but given their history, Sylvia Frasier’s reaction to him would probably be the same: frigid.
    He followed the receptionist through the tastefully decorated building to an office in the back. He’d been here several times before and knew the layout by heart. He was equally familiar with Sylvia, and he easily recognized her perfume from the doorway. It was the same perfume she’d always worn and it still made his gut churn. He walked inside with a nod to the receptionist.
    “Garrett. How nice to see you.” Sylvia’s Southern drawl was the kind that mixed pleasantries with insult. In her late sixties, Sylvia Frasier was the epitome of a wealthy business woman. Well dressed, perfect office. Impressive posture and manners despite the hint of poison that always laced her tone when she spoke to him. She gestured for him to sit, the burgundy polish on her long oval fingernails glinting in the overhead lights.
    “Thank you for seeing me so late in the day.” Garrett sat and tapped the envelope in his hand with a finger.
    Her eyes fell to it, a small smile crossing her mouth. She knew why he was there. There was only one reason he would be, and that was to talk about the available plot of land behind the Throwing Aces that he’d been trying to buy from her for months. He needed that plot to complete the bar expansion, including a rear deck and possibly a couple of volleyball courts. They planned to make the property available for parties, vendor fairs and other gatherings, too. Garrett had made Sylvia several offers, but she’d turned them all down. Even though the plot was listed for public sale, she hadn’t sold it to anyone else, either, giving him some hope.
    He didn’t have any more time, and if she wasn’t going to sell to him, he needed to figure out a plan B.
    “What can I do for you?” Sylvia crossed her hands on top of her desk.
    “I haven’t heard back from you on my last offer, which leads me to believe you haven’t accepted it. But I’d like to know either way.”
    He took out a copy of the offer from the envelope and slid it across her desk. Their eyes met briefly before she took the paper and glanced at it. Sylvia’s perfectly glossed lips twitched just a bit before she gave him that polite yet cold stare he wondered if she reserved for him alone.
    “Why are you pursuing this so tenaciously, Garrett?”
    He gave a tight smile and glanced down for a second. There was no doubt she’d probably heard about Brad’s illness in gossip around town, but he didn’t feel that his uncle’s personal business was any of hers. Given the intense dislike she’d felt for him since he’d spent a night with her granddaughter two years ago, Garrett didn’t feel that confiding about Brad would change anything.
    “That’s personal. You either decide to sell it or you don’t.” He folded his hands across his middle. Getting mixed up with Sylvia’s granddaughter, Holly, wasn’t the most prudent thing he’d ever done, but to his credit, he hadn’t known who Holly was when he’d taken her